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The Gielinor Times
The Gielinor Times is a Gielinor-wide roleplay newspaper owned by Esmeralda Salmassi (K9 Morphed). The paper is the first business to be owned by The Gielinor Corporation set up by Esmeralda Salmassi. Originally the paper was set up by Lord Pyro I (character name unknown), later to be purchased by Stuart Lethbridge-Gordon (Infada) who later sold it to Owen Demarais. After Demarais' death, his assistant CEO and cousin Esmeralda Salmassi took over. Company History In Character Out of Character Staff History Unknown Character Roleplayed by Lord Pyro I, his unknown character created The Gielinor Times holding the role as editor. He recieved several complaints due to the fact that some of his information was incorrect, bias and more. However OOC, his work was praised for innovation and creativity. Stuart Lethbridge-Gordon Stuart took over the paper as CEO after buying it from Lord Pyro I's unknown character. Stuart brought more structured articles to the paper, however lacked organisation with printing dates. Stuart is played by[[User:Infada| Tom]]. Zwalious Thayne Cousin of Sekra Thayne, Zwalious worked as a scribe '(reporter) for the paper when Stuart was CEO and editor. He was later fired by Owen Demarais for lack of participation. Owen Demarais Demarais bought the paper from Stuart so he could pursue a career in business. He helped lead it into popularity. He worked as CEO and Editor until his unfortunate death, leaving the paper to his cousin and assistant: Esmeralda Salmassi. This character was roleplayed by K9 Morphed. Esmeralda Salmassi Esme first worked at the paper as Owen Demarais' assistant editor. After his death, she was promoted to being the current CEO and Editor. She has brought many new staff and content to the paper turning it into the leading paper it is today. This character is roleplayed by K9 Morphed. Archives 'Issue 9 ' Issue9 1.png Issue9 2.png Issue9 3.png Issue9 4.png Issue9 5.png Issue9 6.png Issue9 7.png Issue9 8.png Issue9 9.png ' 'Issue 10' “I WANT TO KNOW I WON’T GET MUGGED” Early in the morning on 30 Ire of Phyrrys, a woman's body was discovered buried under the rubble of a decrepit building in Southwest Varrock. While nothing conclusive can be said at this time, authorities suspect foul play. For years, gang activity has been an ever growing problem within the city of Varrock. Whether this most recent casualty is related to the gangs of Varrock cannot be said, but the people have their concerns. "I don't ever leave my house after dark," said one citizen. "You never know what's lurking behind the next corner." Many citizens blame the gang problem on a lack of discipline in the City Guardsman regime. "It's like they don't even care!" Danica Halloran, recent winner of the TGT lottery, stated earlier this week. "When I go out," Halloran said, "I want to know I won't get mugged for a scrap. The guards don't care about us Southies. It's dog eat dog out here." Unfortunately, many of South Varrock's citizens feel the same way, claiming that nothing will change. While the authorities promise that everything is being done to bring justice to this most recent casualty, citizens are not convinced. Any information pertaining to the case should be taken to the Guardsmen of Varrock. The deceased has not yet been identified. Lia Blake - Misthalin Correspondent – The Gielinor Times TRAPPED CORPSES – THE NEXT BATTLE? Throughout Gielinor, eyewitness accounts suggest that bodies are “alive and dead at the same time.” Observations are that bodies have their ghosts trapped inside their own bodies, both shrugging and squirming as they try to part. This has unsurprisingly not surprised many people. “It’s Zamorak, he’s trying to raise an un-dead army – it’s obvious!” states a Lumbridge citizen. In places such as Monvallis who are still battling against the mountain trolls, this is posing a large threat to them as like the rest of the world, they are unsure as to what exactly is happening. We managed to claim an interview with a member of the Monvallis Legion: Captain Sandra O’trinkers. “We’re wasting resources now. We’ve had to call in mage’s and doctor and all manner of Saradominian priests and vicars to try and crack this. We can’t bury the bodies – they’re still alive! Or could be.” She explains. This has caused a lot of problems – evidently. However, for some, it’s causing catastrophic damage to societies. Due to the recent Battle of Lumbridge, most people – even if they’d deny it – think that the second godwars has began. As such, they think that this phenomenon is in fact the next step into this dark period – The second battle. Murder rates have increased in all kingdoms due to rivalries between religions: Most commonly Saradomin Vs Zamorak. As well as thieving rates and all illegal activities rates have reached a new high since the last world war. As death rates continue to rise, more and more trapped souls are being found all over Gielinor; with a battle between Monvallis, The Longclaws and The Sicarius on it’s way, we expect even more of these bodies to appear. The question is: What exactly is happening? Like with all god related events, many people have different theorys as to what these trapped bodies are: · Death has died or is neglecting his duties. It is well known facts that death is responsible for making the dead souls pass over to the afterlife… So, if they’re not passing – what has happened to death? · Zamorak is stopping them from passing. Due to his loss in the recent battle, some people believe that Zamorak has plans to raise an army of the un-dead to wage war on the Saradominist citizens to act a Gielinor-wide scale revenge with severe consequences. If you have any information regarding this event, please get in touch. Roland ‘Rielly - God wars 2 Correspondent – The Gielinor Times LONGCLAWS RETURN TO GIELINOR As you may or may not know, The Longclaws, formally known as the Claws of Peace, are the notorious combat group who push religion aside for the sole purpose of keeping the peace and protecting Gielinor’s citizens from harm. I managed to seize an interview with the groups commander, Rannerie Longclaw. He began by explaining what the first version of the Longclaws did. He explained how the original ruler of Burthorpe, now known as Monvallis, “requested our support to help with the trolls.” He then went on to say that when Varis Grey was voted King of Burthorpe, the Longclaws were to be the ‘higher power’. Should anything go out of line, they were the ones who were to remove the person from power with immediate effect – The power behind the throne, as it were. After their new understanding with Burthorpe and its new king, The Claws of Peace remained loyal to the cause: protecting the citizens of Burthorpe and Taverly by keep the troll infestation at bay while also keeping a watchful eye on Mr Varis Grey and his running of Burthorpe. However down south in Falador, management changes were being made. Axareas Tryke was put on the throne along with his consort Benjamin who’s second name is unknown to us. For reasons unknown, Axareas was accused of ordering an assassination on enemy soil for “no reason at all”. This caused Sarimia to call upon their allies Burthorpe and Kandarin to eradicate Axareas from power. This is where the Longclaws loyalty ended. With knowledge that the claim is false, the Longclaws went to aid Tyke and fight against Burthorpe and Kandarin. “We managed to hold the bridge for some time against both the Kandar Army as well as the Burthorpe military. We had skill and determination with the wind on our side” explained Longclaw. “We fought against them as what they were doing was wrong. Their intel was corrupt, we had to try to help the unfortunate” he continued. With an impressive opinion on citizen safety and world justice, after their considerable amount of time on hiatus: The LongClaws are back with a bang. Having only returned for a mire few months, The Claws of Peace already have their first target: The Sicarius. The Sicarius are an infamously evil family, known for their lack of mercy and assumed deep supporting of Zamorak. Not much is known on them, only that shold you stand infront of their goal: they’ll do everything in their possession to ‘move’ you. What is known, however, is that hostilities have already begun with reported sightings of fights in several different locations in Gielinor and reported killings on either side. We are unsure of if there will be a proper, full scale battle or just numerous small scale attacks. Esmeralda Salmassi - CEO and Editor – The Gielinor Times. THROUGH FRACTURED GLASS – PART TWO dimgreyBeside the article is a colored illustration depicting a good-sized heap of rubble, parts of which seem to have been recently moved. Around this dark heap stand a number of people, mostly common folks native to the place- though there are two Varrock guards in place, easily recognizable by their polished armor. The focus of the group's attention seems to be a clear, white, definitely human outline partway into the rubble./dimgrey But, moments after he'd uttered his goodbyes, a warmth came over the skeletal building and the sounds of life burst around him. Alistair eased his eyes open to survey the area- and not even the crackling fire could stop him from freezing in place. Before him he saw the wispy smoke that lifted from Mister Lyddell's pipe as he leaned back in his deep green chair. Missus Lyddell sat knitting in a wooden rocker next to him, and Lissy sat at her feet with their small calico cat. "Where am I?" The world looked so very real, but Mister Lyddell didn't turn to the sound of his voice. Missus Lyddell didn't set down her knitting and Lissy only continued to stroke the cat's calico fur. All around them, the house shone in golden firelight; everything fresh, everything rich. From the corner of his eye, Alistair noticed a shadow flash by an open doorway. He slid off the piano stool, following the darkness In the kitchen, a thick, sickly sweet odor permeated the air, choking out any hope for a fresh breath. The table was marked and stained with deep knife cuts and fresh spilled blood that dribbled over the edge. A silver, lid-topped platter sat in the center. Gasping for breath, he reached out feverishly to throw the silver lid up and away from the platter. Blood welled over the sides of the platter and spilled across the table. On the platter sat a great pig's uncooked body, in the typical roasted style, and a butcher knife stuck out from deep in its back. But the head- the head of this uncooked meal was that of a young black-haired boy with an apple driven in his mouth. His unfortunate blue eyes wide open, tears streamed down his cheeks. Alistair's dark hazel eyes stood wide as could be, reflecting the unimaginable blue. Then, he heaved heavily to the side, knocking the platter down as he retched. The platter clattered to the floor and the contents slid across the tile and connected with tiny, ash colored toes. A dull grey doll-child stood amidst the warm light and rich colored blood, her dress torn, moth eaten and dirty. Her black hair hung in long stringy locks that fell in her face, uselessly tied with a dull blue colored ribbon. Her diaphanous voice was the same voice that had told him to run. "Too late." A gurgling sound came from his throat as he tried to scream but only a whimper left his body. The child's steps dragged across the bloody floor. A thin, boney arm flashed pale in the warm candlelight as she stretched a hand out to him. He brought his hand up to tentatively meet hers, an undeniable fear in his eyes. The girl's skin was cold and rough against his as she led him back through the doorway and into fresher air. When they passed by Mister Lyddell's chair, it was empty, as was Missus Lyddell's rocker. Lissy wasn't there either, leaving behind the calico cat. As they passed, the beast's mouth curled into a wicked grin. "Are they...Dead?" Alistair could hardly form the words. The translucent way her voice hissed broke the quiet air. "Waiting." As they reached the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and pointed up. At the top of the stairway the last few steps disappeared into a black nothingness. "...There's nothing there." She stood still and pointed, the chilling silhouette of a child-statue. "...Fine." Alistair placed a shaking hand on the railing and moved up into the dark with hesitant footsteps. As he ascended the steps the candlelit world dissipated. The air turned chilly and each step he left behind returned to its rotting state. The moment he reached the hall at the top of the stairs he ran, trying to escape the house. There was hardly any light by which to see and what light there was put a strain on his eyes. The hall seemed to go on forever, with a single door at the end. Rot-weakened, the door burst open, splintering against his force as Alistair slammed himself against it. Set back in a corner of the room was a tall structure covered by a thick blanket. It wasn't too noticeable on its own, but, aside from spiders and dust, it was the only thing in the entire room. Squinting, Alistair stumbled over and pulled the blanket away. Underneath rested an elegant golden-framed mirror, untouched by time. In the glass he only saw himself, but his sight soon moved towards the reflected cobwebs of the room and he wondered what might be lurking in the corners. The little girl from the kitchen flashed into sight behind him, gripping a butcher knife that dripped with a thick, oily black ooze. As they stared at each other in the mirror's reflection, Lissy Lyddell crept into the room, each step an agonized jerking motion that lunged her forward. Her body was bone thin and ash colored and her face was gaunt. Two voids stared forward, empty sockets that had once held lively eyes. The same black ooze from the knife ran down from them. She opened her ashen lips and a hollow gasp came from her. Alistair cried out in disgust. Lissy drug herself toward him with agonizingly twisted steps. Mister and Missus Lyddell crawled into the room across the ceiling, looking and acting the exact same way as their unfortunate daughter. Soon, the three bodies blocked the only path toward the door. "Run," the little girl hissed at him. But there was no way out and nothing he could throw at the beasts as they encroached. And then an idea hit him. Bracing for the impact of sharp glass on his skin, he ran towards the mirror. To Be Continued... Lia Blake - Columnist – The Gielinor Times THE MAN ON THE SAND Much has happened since this reporter last sent his pigeon circling into the sky in the direction of mighty Misthalin. With what one hopes is a little more decorum this time, this article aims to address the events following where the previous left off. With the ship up on the shore, I did indeed climb in to have a look. Below-decks I was met with a sight very similar to the one in the captain's cabin; all was as it should have been. Hammocks and cargo were stowed neatly in the lower and crew decks, much of it stowed so efficiently that even as the boat listed to port as it did upon the sand, very little came loose. Indeed, the only thing that was out of place down there was a smell unlike any I've encountered before, but surely as chilling as any known on Gielinor. Somewhere between honey and sulfur it sat in the nose, lingering faintly in the close air below. After much searching and rifling through the contents and cargo of the ship, it was clear that the vessel had not been robbed. Yet there was no sign of any of the crew - it was as though everyone had simply vanished. It was only when I emerged from the vessel that I met another soul. There on the sand he stood, a Karamjan staring up at the word "Kharazi" upon the underside of the ship. He was dressed in ordinary northern clothing, rather than the reed skirts and tribal attire usually found on the island. He greeted me politely enough, if rather coldly. Though I was initially (and, I think, understandably) suspicious of the fellow, he seemed happy to speak to me, especially when I told him I worked for The Gielinor Times. He asked to be referred to as Pall, though he made it clear that was not his real name. I asked him if he knew anything about the boat, the disappearances or this mysterious "Kharazi." 'You know what Kharazi is, northerner? It is an old word; not just a word, but a name. A name given to many different things, places and ideas. He went on: 'Ask your northern legends, in their guild, what Kharazi is. They will tell you it is a jungle - inhospitable and savage - and they tell the truth. But they tell only part of that truth. How many gods do you know, northerner? You know your Saradomin and your Zamorak, maybe others. Perhaps you know the others crawling slowly from the woodwork.' Here he looked to the south, as though seeing past the impenetrable jungle that lay several miles in that direction. I had to press him to continue. 'But there is something here that lies forgotten by your civilized memories. A mystery beyond clues and riddles, unlike the hidden, betrayed god so many of your angsty teenagers take an interest in. That god left clues and memories everywhere, yet still is referred to as a god of mystery; but this, this left nothing. Nothing but a name, now attributed to locations and ideas.' Like many young men of my generation, I had been thrilled to hear the southern coastline and its inland areas beyond the jungle had been mapped by a bold adventurer from the guild of legends. So, I asked him, do these recent events have anything to do with the jungle, or with this idea of "Kharazi?" 'Kharazi is far more than just an idea, but yes, they are related. Though not as they should be. It wants to remain hidden. But this? Kidnapping colonists and carving the very word itself into woodwork where journalists will see? Something wants to draw it out, and reveal its secrets.' He became quiet again, and drew what appeared to be a runestone from his pocket. I was unable to see what type of runestone it was, though he turned it over in his hand several times before replacing it. I was able to press him for one final question: what, in his opinion, will the next move of this strange group be? 'Their next move? The next move will not be theirs, northerner. Count on that.' He said no more and wandered back into the jungle, vanishing among the trees. We can only guess what his final words meant. Tame Locke - Karamja Correspondent – The Gielinor Times 'Issue 11' Through Fractured Glass – Part 3 As he connected with the mirror, a crash of thunder split the cold sounds of the Lyddell's death-pained gasps in half. His skin met with a rush of freezing water as he slipped into the mirror through a ripple in reality. Swept up in strong sea current, he was dragged down, down, down toward the end of everything. Alistair thrashed against the waves, breaking through the icy sea wall that stood between him and a world unlike any other and breathing out in ecstatic victory. Just ahead he saw a beach closely encroached by a thickly growing forest of trees and bright colored flowers of all sizes, some even larger than he himself. Groaning at all the bright colors and lights, he slowly swam to shore and threw himself onto the warm sand. The sky above him moved more than the waves of the sea, churning different shades of blue and purple and yellow that flowed around each other and made him dizzy. A warm breeze rolled off the canopy of the forest, and it carried a sweet sing-song voice on its back. "Come in, sweetness. Come in, child." Grunting, Alistair stood and walked towards the voice without question. The forest was warm and inviting in every way as the strange voice coaxed him along. Behind him, the sea began to grow dark, icing over as he moved further away from it. Bright flowers closed and opened around him, releasing unimaginable fragrances, and the trees hung heavy with plump, colorful fruit. Soon, the sound of slowly trickling water reached his ears and the trees opened up to a small glade. The clearing was blanketed with soft grass and moss that made a plush floor around a small pool of clear, sparkling water. Water trickled into the pool down the side of a large weather-beaten stone. Alistair fell into the pool and drank as much water as he possibly could. It was cool and fresh and tasted strangely sweet. Small plant life grew at its bottom and sunlight seeped down through the treetops and lit the whole glade up in a warm glow. Alistair drank for a long while before he sat back, looking everywhere and he wondering where he was. The flowers that grew throughout the forest began to inch and creep toward his hands and legs. There were red flowers as big as his head and blue flowers that glowed from within, no bigger than his fist and growing in plentiful supply. Purple flowers as big as his whole body stood near the edges of the glade and didn't move at all. These flowers opened, their petals curling back, and entire human arms grew out of them, reaching toward Alistair. A small voice, that of a boy-child, called out from within the violet petals. "Help! Help, I'm stuck!" "How do I know you're real?" Alistair's voice quivered as he called out. "Please! I want my mommy!" The voice pleaded, a child's fearful cries filling the air. He sounded terrified, possibly hurt. And so very desperate. "Where are you?" "OVER HERE!" "...OVER HERE!" "......OVER HERE!" Each of the flowers shouted one after another, the same voice coming from each and overlapping one other. They were loud, desperate and breaking under the terror in them. Each hand reached as far toward him as they possibly could and their voices echoed. Alistair reached into his pocket as he edged towards the closest purple flower. He grabbed the closest hand and pulled hard. As soon as he did, however, the voices became silent and the arm pulled back against him. Its strength was massive as it fought to drag him into its violet petals, which began to close up and swallow him whole. To Be Continued... Lia Blake - The Gielinor Times WHITHER THE WILD ONES? With events both serious and strange taking place on the savage island paradise of Karamja these past weeks, it was with a mixture of relief and trepidation that the good islanders watched the week pass without any major catastrophes befalling them or theirs. Logging camps were left to their business. No disappearances have been reported. All ships reported in on time at each of Karamja's major ports. The Alert, having been put back to sea and investigated as thoroughly as the village of Shilo's militia were able, has been taken up by a new crew and is running its old charter routes once more. "There's really nothing wrong with it as far as we can tell," said the Alert's new captain, Captain Ombuti, when The Gielinor Times spoke to him. "We still don't know what happened to its old crew, but the ship's in fine working order. It would be a shame not to make use of it." bBusiness as usual?/b There has been no sign of the mysterious tribals who set upon the lumber colony of Jack's Headache. We spoke to its owner, Lucy Carrington. "The camp's slowly getting back on its feet. Obviously, with the help of the Brimhaven Port Authority, we are leaving no stone unturned in our search for the missing lumberjacks." Thus far, there has been no sign of them, but there have also been no more abductions. So, is the crisis over? No, says Kalash of Tai Bwo Wannai: "The night before last, we heard calls for help from the jungle to the north." He agreed to speak with The Gielinor Times in the hope that this would raise awareness of the situation. "A few of us went out to look in the morning, but there was nothing there; no sign that anyone had been there during the night." When asked if he could describe the calls for help, he had this to say: "They sounded Karamjan, but we could only make out the occasional few words. It was like they were speaking a different language." bA man with a runestone./b Coupled with these phantom pleas for help are several reported sightings of "a Karamjan man in northern clothing, fiddling with a strange runestone." This man, The Gielinor Times has learned, has been sighted in Shilo Village, Tai Bwo Wannai, and even as far north as Musa Point. Jirimmy Spirot, a bartender in Musa Point, had this to say: "The only reason he stood out around here, o'course, was that runestone. That and his odd behaviour. We found him standing down on the docks at dawn, and he looked like he'd been there all night. I think he went westwards after that, but we 'aven't seen 'im since." Varula, a fisherwoman from Shilo Village, was able to tell us this about him: "Him was an odd sort. Talked to no one during the day, and we watched 'im disappear into the jungle at night. Some of the older men refused to look him in the eye and muttered some old saying whenever he walked by them, but they won't tell us why." True to her word, none of Shilo's elders would talk to The Gielinor Times. Interestingly, this sentiment was echoed in Tai Bwo Wannai, where nobody, not even Kalash, would answer questions about this man. Whatever this man's origins, it is clear it is the same individual this reporter spoke to last week. He has been impossible to find for interview, but reports of him continue to emerge from within Karamja's less isolated communities. Whatever his motives and actions, and whatever the fate of these mysterious tribals and the missing lumberjacks, you can be sure The Gielinor Times will be there to bring you the stories as they unfold. Until next week, Gielinor. Tame Locke - The Gielinor Times OCTAVIUS TALBORT iBut first…/i Philosophical Brainteaser: What happens when an unstoppable force meets an unbreakable wall? bAn interview with Octavius Talbot, Wizard./b Octavius Talbot is a dull wizard with an exciting personality and Dark Green robes, he is followed everywhere by his faithful pet penguin Hector. In his hands is a strange pot, it appears to be cylindrical, and it's purpose is unknown to me. Q: Octavius, what exactly is it that you do? A: Well usually I sit in my house and play with chemicals, but today I went out to buy groceries. Q:Why do you have a pet penguin? I've had Hector for quite awhile now, he follow me wherever I go and sometimes takes my money for gambling with other aviary creatures, but he's not supposed to do that. Q: That doesn't make any sense. A: Well now that you mention it, that doesn't make any sense. Hector. Q: Would you support the drowning of a kitten to save the lives of 1000 people? A: Well, kittens actually have nine lives, so yes, because the kitten would have eight more. In my defense, it was my first interview, and I had no idea how to react. As such I thought that perhaps switching tactics would produce more beneficial results. Q:So you're an anti-kitten supporter? A: I love kittens Q:Then why would you let them lose even just one life? A:They have nine, they will be fine. NOVTUMBERFEST, THE FUN FEST On the 1st of Novtumber, the White Knights of Falador held a grand festival in their citadel known as 'Vallancia'. The first thing one could see upon entering was the decorations, which added a spooky atmosphere to the decked out citadel. Buxom maidens in lederhosen walked around the grounds happily, handing out ale with a smile. After the crowd of entering people thinned out the first event began - a drinking contest. Participants gulped down tankards of ale for the prize of gold coins and the winner won the event with eleven tankards consumed. With the guests liquored up the second event began - a miming contest. The participants began trying to copy a mime with hair the color of blood and tested their ability to perform while slightly or very intoxicated. A woman by name of Eravvi won this event. When the miming contest won the guests were led to a very large maze, specially made for Novtumberfest. The maze was made of stone and metal, with plenty of tricks and traps. The race added a quick-paced flare to the event and participants rushed and whirled in all directions. Even the correspondent covering the event found she could not penetrate the maze's core and make it past the middle before a very fast guest won. After the guests got their blood pumping and energy rushing, they went over to a room designed and modeled after the Party Room. The people who participated in this event pulled out all their moves and chatted - fun was certainly had by all in this relaxed event. Balloons fell shortly after full of random prizes. The last event was a costume contest. Most guests donned their outfits for the entire evening, but a few rushed to changing rooms after dancing for last-minute alterations or to get into costume. The correspondent there was very surprised, along with the hosts Sir Bool and Lord Dion of Entrana, of the effort put into the outfits. Many were homemade or evidently had a fair bit of coin spent on them. The hosts decided that to pick only three winners was too little for the masses of dressed up people. After a few minutes of discussion, a few more winners were picked amidst a clapping crowd. The winners lined up toward the audience and smiled as they received their prizes. There were a few jealous members of the audience, but all in all, it was an enjoyable event. When the winner of the mime event, Eravvi, was asked about the highlights of her evening she decided the maze and costume contest were her favorite parts, "It maze was a bit tricky but I can't say it wasn’t enjoyable! That and the fact I got to dress up, nothing beats a good dressing up now does it?" By all accounts Novtumberfest was a complete success. Sir Bool Cowbra of the White Knights could not be reached for comment, but the pumpkin-headed commander certainly held visible excitement throughout the evening as he hosted the events. Dana Hayes - Asgarnia Correspondent - The Gielinor Times HOROSCOPES Aquarius: Keep alert, you will learn something very important this week. Accept instruction. Aries: Being cautious doesn't mean to stop trying new things. There's no need to avoid the unknown now. Keep your eyes open. Cancer: Being polite is a practical virtue. Use information, not emotions, to persuade others. New challenges bring about greater rewards. Capricorn: A surprise pops up, from a loved one or child. Be sure to pay attention. Gemini: A brilliant insight propels your studies. Pursue an unusual interest. Leo: Play with long-range plans. Don't try out a new idea now, more practice is required. Libra: Be respectful of possibly unstable conditions. Be sensitive in a potential conflict. Negotiate terms. Pisces: It's a high productivity week. Keep costs low. It's not a good time to discuss finances. Sagittarius: Opposites attract even more so now. Get something you've longed for. Do yourself proud. Scorpio: Be prepared, there's a choice to make. Select harmonious surroundings. Taurus: Research thrives this week. New opportunities present themselves. Stay patient Virgo: A possible financial surprise could arise. Be receptive. 'Issue 12' 'Issue 13' 'Issue 14' 'Issue 15' 'Issue 16' 'Issue 17' Category:Organization Category:Documents Category:Kandarin Category:Misthalin Category:Asgarnia Category:Kharidian Category:Incomplete Articles Category:Custom Content